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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26296138">Slipping Masks</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AtoTheBean/pseuds/AtoTheBean'>AtoTheBean</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>James Bond (Craig movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Gen, Inspired by the scene in the trailer for NTTD, Kidnapping, Post-SPECTRE, you know the one</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 08:48:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,061</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26296138</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AtoTheBean/pseuds/AtoTheBean</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Q’s missing.”</p><p>Bond freezes, eyes no longer focused on the view of the Thames or the other Londoners bustling about the sidewalk. “What do you mean he’s missing? We were just at his flat.”</p><p>“Yes, well, we weren’t the last ones to visit him,” Moneypenny deduces.</p><p>Bond shifts the phone to his other ear. The phone Q had given him less than two hours before. “He was taken?”</p><p>**Inspired by that scene in the trailer for NNTD... you know the one.**</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James Bond &amp; Q, James Bond/Madeleine Swann</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>110</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>208</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>007 Fest Fancreations</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/oldestcharm/gifts">oldestcharm</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is a gift for @Oldestcharm, who won a 1-5k word prize from me in 007 Fest this year.  @Oldestcharm didn't specify a prompt, but likes reading mission fic and case fic, so I did what I could <strike>within the 5k-word limit</strike> blowing right past the 5k-word limit, but (hopefully) not by too much.</p><p>They'll be 4 chapters and they're all drafted, but I'm still tweaking.  I'll post twice a week, probably.</p><p>And many MANY thanks to anyawen, who has brainstormed with me throughout and betaed this little beast.  You're the best!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>“Q’s missing.”</p><p>Bond freezes, eyes no longer focused on the view of the Thames or the other Londoners bustling about the sidewalk. “What do you mean he’s missing? We were just at his flat.”</p><p>“Yes, well, we weren’t the last ones to visit him,” Moneypenny deduces.</p><p>Bond shifts the phone to his other ear. The phone <em>Q</em> had given him less than two hours before. “He was <em>taken</em>?”</p><p>“Can you come down here again?” Eve asks. “There’s something you need to see.”</p><p>The flat, when he arrives, bears almost no resemblance to the residence he left a few hours before. It’s completely tossed, clothes and bits of tech and books strewn everywhere. Blood on the edge of the table, bits of plastic on the floor. Bond bends down and picks a piece up. It’s grey and curved and is coated in a tacky film, like from a sticker that peeled off and left a residue.</p><p>Q’s laptop. Bond looks around for signs of it and follows the voices into Q’s home office, where there are clear signs of a rapid retreat: cables hanging from a shelf, chair tipped over...</p><p>“Bond,” M greets. He’s standing with Moneypenny, holding a phone out. R’s voice emanates from the speaker.</p><p>Bond holds up the bit of plastic. “Have you found his laptop? If they grabbed it, they might try to force him to access MI6 servers.”</p><p>“Q can likely hack our servers, even without official access,” R responds through the tinny speaker. “He built the firewalls; he knows their weaknesses.”</p><p>“What protection do we have?” M asks.</p><p>“As soon as he was declared missing, I started a program that adds two more layers of firewall and refreshes the passcodes every 20 minutes. Mind you, I can’t think of <em>anything</em> that could motivate Q to hack in at an enemy’s request. We’ve gone through countless trainings and assessments of potential vulnerabilities. Those of us with family have a leverage point that can be used against us. It’s one of the reasons Q keeps me out of certain encryption algorithms… spreads them around different Q branchers. We each have a piece of the puzzle, but any one of us couldn’t divulge <em>everything</em> if we were captured.”</p><p>“But Q knows everything?” Moneypenny asks.</p><p>“No,” R says. “He doesn’t know the details of the firewalls I just added. He’s just talented enough that if he were <em>really</em> motivated, they wouldn’t slow him down much.”</p><p>“Have you seen any evidence that he’s tried to hack in?” Bond asks.</p><p>“No,” R assures. “But they may still be moving him. He got an alert to me via his cell before they took it from him.”</p><p>“That’s how we got here so quickly,” Moneypenny explains to Bond.</p><p>“And what are we doing to track him?” Bond asks. “Was there anything on CCTV?”</p><p>“I’ve got someone working on that. Nothing so far.”</p><p>“But there’s this,” Moneypenny says, handing Bond a broken piece of white plastic encased in a resealable bag. It looks like part of a Guy Fawkes mask. Or…</p><p>“Where’s Madeleine?” Bond asks. He’d left her in MI6 for safekeeping, but now… This looks a lot like something she’d described in a nightmare. A mask harkening back from the first time Madeleine killed someone, as a mere child, protecting her family. A memory that haunts her still, and which he’d always assumed was embellished with a child’s imagination. But perhaps not.</p><p>“I left her down in Psych after introducing her around,” Tanner’s voice comes in across the speaker. “She seemed interested in the program, and they were happy to have someone who wasn’t there at gunpoint.”</p><p>Bond meets Eve’s grim gaze. She’s put it together, too. “When you called in and told us you’d been attacked in Italy,” she says, “you said <em>Madeline </em>was convinced her past had caught up to her. That it wasn’t one of your multiple enemies, but one of <em>hers</em>. And in her nightmares, they always wear white masks.”</p><p>“Send someone to check on her, please,” Bond requests as someone comes in holding Q’s battered and drenched laptop. A junior agent, judging from the way he deferentially nods at M and Eve, and even Bond.</p><p>“There’s more blood in the kitchen,” he says. “And we found this is the microwave.”</p><p>“Q’s laptop,” Moneypenny says for R’s and Tanner’s benefit. “He didn’t go without a fight,” she adds, eying the condition of it.</p><p>“He wouldn’t,” R says.</p><p>“Why wouldn’t they take the computer?” Bond asks.</p><p>“Well, it’s ruined, isn’t it?” the lad asks. Bond shakes his head. Are they teaching these children <em>nothing</em>?</p><p>“Is it scorched?” R asks.</p><p>“No,” Bond assures her. “They must have interrupted him destroying it, and then… either didn’t find it, or he kept them busy enough to not risk looking, or… it wasn’t what they were after…” And what did <em>that</em> say about Q’s kidnapping?</p><p>“If he didn’t have time to drill or microwave the drive, data might be salvageable,” R says. “I can connect it to a new processor. But if I know Q, it will be encrypted with a password he’s changing at <em>least</em> weekly.”</p><p>“We’ll bring it in,” Moneypenny offers.</p><p>“What about the Smartblood program?” Bond asks. “Can we use that to track him?”</p><p>“It was disbanded after your retirement,” M says. “We didn’t see as much of a need for it, since our other agents don’t seem to wander off as much as you used to,” he adds pointedly. “It was never widely used, and the tracking programs were all mothballed. It’d be hard to bring back online, even if we thought it might be useful.”</p><p>Bond’s frustration rises. “We need a lead.”</p><p>“I’ll get the computer back to Q Branch,” Eve offers. “Maybe he was working on something that drew someone’s attention.”</p><p>“Or maybe they were watching me and we led them straight here when we dropped by,” Bond worries.</p><p>“If this really is the same group that came after you and Dr. Swann, we have bigger problems,” Eve says.</p><p>“Let’s assume it is. Q has saved my life a number of times. I want to help find him.”</p><p>M looks grim. “I agree. It’s too much of a coincidence. Your emergency status can extend to the Quartermaster’s disappearance. But you can’t go off on your own. R will be your handler—”</p><p>“Sir!” R protests.</p><p>“—And Miss Moneypenny will keep me informed, since I assume retirement has not improved your ability to submit mission reports.”</p><p>Despite his growing concern for Q’s welfare, Bond can’t help a small smirk at the expression on Eve’s face.</p><p>“I need to get back for a meeting with the PM. Bond, as much as I encourage you to be efficient in your pursuit of the Quartermaster, try not to destroy any city blocks… any <em>important</em> city blocks… You’re on home turf now. The paperwork will be <em>ghastly</em>. R, Bond will call in for support if needed and otherwise meet with you in… two hours?” Bond nods. “In two hours to go over the contents of Q’s harddrive. Miss Moneypenny, you’re with me.” He cuts off the call in the middle of R’s protests.</p><p>Eve shoots him a glare as she follows M through the door.</p><p>A team continues to go through Q’s flat for evidence, picking up the bits of plastic and tech ushering terrified felines from their hiding place under the bed into carriers that can transport them to a Q Branch cat-sitter. As the yowling creatures retreat with scratched up agents, he’s pleased that’s not his job.</p><p>Bond finds himself scanning Q’s bookshelves. How is it he’s never thought about what the boffin might read? Some of it is unsurprising. There’s a lot of Frank Herbert and Isaac Asimov. A decent collection of technical books about computer languages, including “Hacking for Dummies,” which Bond assumes is a gag gift. But it’s the top shelf that catches Bond’s eye. A group of small travel books is stacked beside a miniature TARDIS. “Bicycle Tours of Jamaica” is at the top of the pile. It’s worn and dogeared, and flipping through the pages absently, Bond can see there are notes and underlines.</p><p>Q’s bicycle helmet and other gear show the man is at least a pragmatic cyclist — using the device to navigate the busy city and stay fit in a busy job. But the travel books indicate more of a passion. There’s another for Italy, and for Scotland. Those seem less surprising… Places he can get to via train.</p><p>Bond pockets the Jamaica book, curious about what it says about the island he’s called home the last few years. Well, not home. Now that he’s back in London, he realizes that nowhere else is really home. Even the smell of the Thames is nostalgic… makes him feel things he’s avoided for a long time. Memories of M — <em>his</em> M — and other potential complications.</p><p>Bond’s just about decided he’s seen all that’s useful at Q’s flat when his phone rings.</p><p>It’s Eve.</p><p>“Dr. Swann is missing.”</p><p>“What do you mean, <em>missing</em>? She was in -6.”</p><p>“An agent came in and took the attention of the staff down in Psych. She was left alone in a room for not even 5 minutes and when they went back for her, she was gone.”</p><p>A cold knot forms in James’ stomach. Like the knot he felt when he learned the money hadn’t been transferred from the Casino Royale poker game.</p><p>“There was no sign of a struggle,” he infers, thinking back over the last year to all the things that felt wrong about their relationship. Times when Madeleine had grown quiet or more secretive than normal.</p><p>“I’m sorry, James.”</p><p>“R is tracking her movements?”</p><p>“She’s pulling together what info we have up to the point Dr. Swann left MI6. And what she may have taken.”</p><p>Bloody <em>fuck.</em></p><p>“I’m on my way.”</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Many thanks again to Anyawen's excellent betaing and hand holding!  And all of you who have left comments... I enjoyed them so much!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p> </p><p>“This is taking too long,” Bond complains. He’s mentally calculating how long Q has been with his captors, how many times he might have been moved. The chances of his survival go down by the hour and it’s already been several.</p><p>“I know,” R says, rubbing her brow. She turns to the team looking for evidence of Q’s capture on CCTV and tracing the vehicle he was taken away in. “Report.”</p><p>“Trail’s cold,” the tech says, shaking his head. “We’re tracing some other things, but…” He shrugs.</p><p>R looks as frustrated as Bond feels. “This will work, though,” Bond says, nodding at the computer. R has extracted the drive from Q’s laptop and connected it to one of the faster computers in the branch. She’s currently running a program to break through Q’s encryption. Finding out what Q was working on is their best bet for understanding why he was taken.</p><p>“It will, but it will take a while, even with this processor. There’s no finesse… it’s just a brute force approach.”</p><p>“But that’s our best bet, right? Q would have selected something random.”</p><p>“Actually, probably not,” R says, surprising James. “He doesn’t like random passwords, mostly because they’re never <em>truly</em> random. They’re usually generated by an algorithm, and we’re all coders so…”</p><p>“So what does he use? Surely he doesn’t use his cats’ names or some rubbish?”</p><p>“No, he’s adamant about security… he just tends to let something other than himself or a computer decide. When I first got here, there was an old-fashioned globe in Boothroyd’s office. It was well known because it seemed so anachronistic. He uses things like that old globe. Start it spinning fast, flip a coin for the northern or southern hemisphere, and use his finger to stop the globe. Whatever city or mountain was there, that was his password. So it’s random, only it’s a finite range of possibilities. But he’d have a dozen different techniques and rotate through them. So this could go much faster if we had some insight about his current key. But without that, we just have this.”</p><p>M enters Q Branch carrying a folder and joins them. “Any luck?”</p><p>“The program is still working on Q’s passwords,” R reports, “but the drive is definitely intact. The CCTV trail went cold fairly quickly. They know the holes in the coverage and made good use of them.”</p><p>“Which implies this was planned and not opportunistic,” M deduces. He and Bond share a grim look.</p><p>“Regarding Dr. Swann,” R continues, “there was an unauthorized exit through the south stairwell, and our cameras picked up a woman leaving and hailing a cab — almost certainly her, but we didn’t get a good look at her face. We were able to trace the cab on CCTV. It dropped her at Victoria Station and then we lost her in the crowd. Techs are running through the station camera feeds now, but it’s pretty crowded, sir.”</p><p>M sighs. “Good work. Psych was able to see what she accessed at the workstation. They may need your help sorting out <em>how</em> she was able to get in, but apparently, she was after Q’s psych file.” He holds up the paper folder. “These are just a few highlights.”</p><p>“They’re looking for leverage points?” Bond asks.</p><p>“So it would seem,” M agrees. “Is there any indication he’s trying to hack the servers?”</p><p>“No, sir,” R assures him. “I’ve set up alerts for every technique I’ve seen him use in our drills. I know how he operates, sir, and I know his work. If he tries hard enough, I’m sure he’ll get in eventually, but I’ll know it’s happening. And if he does, it’s likely it will be for show. To make it look to his captors like he’s cooperating while using a technique he knows we’ll be watching for. He may even try to get a message to us. I’m watching for all of that.”</p><p>“Good.” M turns to Bond. “Any idea what they want with the Quartermaster? You know Dr. Swann. It seems her connections to her father’s organization might have been stronger than we’d been led to believe.”</p><p>Bond’s been thinking about this, too. “I’m not sure what specifically they want with Q, but regarding Madeleine, I can see three possibilities,” he answers grimly. “She was either always in their employ, and merely acting at being a happy — or at some moments not-so-happy — couple to keep me off the chessboard, so to speak. Or she was completely sincere and they really did just track her down, and somehow communicated that they had something over her to force her cooperation — though I can’t imagine what that might be.” He doesn’t think there’s still anyone alive from Madeleine’s past that she might be trying to protect, but he’s not feeling very confident of his read of her. “Or she’s acting like the true survivor that she is and playing both sides against the middle,” Bond concludes.</p><p>“What does your gut tell you?” M asks. “I trust your instincts.”</p><p>Bond isn’t sure that’s wise at the moment. He sighs and scrubs a hand down his face, not wanting to share evidence of his lack of judgment but also realizing that honesty is the best way to get Q back safely. “We both rushed into running away together. We were always more focused on getting away from what came before than moving <em>toward</em> something. It was entertaining at first — the honeymoon period, I suppose — but it’s been a year now that it’s felt more and more forced. She’s been secretive. She’s always asked about my past, and I shared anything that wasn’t a state secret, but we never much discussed hers. I already knew about Mr. White and SPECTRE, and it didn’t seem worth revisiting painful subjects.” Bond considers what he’s shared with Madeleine over the years. “They met, Q and Madeleine, during the SPECTRE mission. And because she knew of him, I was perhaps freer than I should have been with stories about him. Praising his skills and cleverness. I don’t know exactly what they want with him, but I’m almost certainly the one who put a target on his back if Madeleine is a source of information.”</p><p>“Don’t overstate your role,” M says. “The Quartermaster always has targets on his back, and they aren’t all due to his activities with MI6. He made his own enemies before he joined us. But I admit, it does seem connected. If he was working on something after hours that drew their attention, it would be helpful to know,” he adds, nodding at the drive.</p><p>“Yes, sir,” R answers, clearly feeling the pressure.</p><p>“You may find this interesting reading, Bond,” M says, handing him the folder. “For your eyes only. Use the shredder when you’re done.”</p><p>Bond raises an eyebrow and takes the file. “Yes, sir.”</p><p>He spends a half-hour perched on a stool at R’s workbench going through the psych evaluation summaries that date back to when the boffin was first promoted to the position of Quartermaster in a trial by fiery explosion that left his former boss and a good percentage of his colleagues dead or injured. And though many of the details are redacted — M apparently tried to strike a balance between Q’s privacy and Bond’s ability to run the mission — Bond comes to several conclusions.</p><p>First, Q is at least as taciturn with Psych as he himself is, and they absolutely hate it. Early reports indicate concern that he’s burying the trauma of the explosion and that the stress he is under would be terrible even for someone much older and experienced (though Bond is surprised to learn Q is older than he’d first assumed), and that they were worried Q would break at some point. Which if Q ever found out, Bond imagines he’d react just like Bond would do and tell them even <em>less</em>. It makes him smirk as he reads.</p><p>Second, they took Q’s penchant for breaking rules to be tied to his stress. And the boffin is under a lot of stress. He takes the pressure for the success of missions on himself and bends rules when he deems it necessary. Especially, it would seem, for Bond, which they lay fully at Bond’s feet. He laughs at that, too, trying to ignore the vague flicker of guilt in his amusement. He’s always understood Q would break rules for him and used it to his advantage. He willfully ignored the potential added stress on the boffin. He was always cavalier about it, but it doesn’t sit well with him now.</p><p>Third, Q has periods in which he’s even less communicative than normal. Most of the doctors attribute this to stress and stubbornness, but at least one voiced concern that it might be periods of depression. Bond initially dismisses this “finding” since it could really be said of any of them. He didn’t know anyone in -6 who found the routine psych evaluations helpful. Invasive, was the more common reaction. Most of the agents lie routinely on evaluations just to fuck with the doctors. But Bond doesn’t feel quite so blasé when he checks the dates of the episodes.</p><p>A buzzing in his pocket interrupts his train of thought, and he closes the file and pulls out the phone Q had given him earlier in the day.</p><p>“Aren’t you going to answer it?” R asks after Bond just stares at the screen for a moment.</p><p>“It’s not a call,” Bond explains, holding it up for her inspection.</p><p>She furrows her brows at the blank welcome screen. “An alarm?”</p><p>“<em>I</em> haven’t set an alarm on it,” he says, opening the app to see if an alarm exists. There’s nothing.</p><p>“It’s a strange pattern,” R comments, tilting her head to listen to the buzzing. “Not a standard—”</p><p>“It’s Morse code,” Bond interrupts, feeling idiotic for not noticing sooner. “S-O-S.”</p><p>R’s eyes widen. “Q?”</p><p>Bond shrugs, but keeps eying the phone expectantly. It doesn’t disappoint.</p><p>    PW191225=1225^18471N77919W</p><p>    PW200412=0412^18440N77234W</p><p>    PW200804=0408^40664N16596E</p><p>It’s not a text. Bond has no way of replying. He grabs a pen off the table and starts writing the message down on the outside of the folder he’s been reading, but R has her phone out and has snapped several pictures before he can even get the first line transcribed. The message disappears a moment later, and his generic blank screen shines at them innocently.</p><p>“Okay, what do we have here?” R muses, opening the picture on her phone and setting it on the desk so they can both examine it.</p><p>“Passwords?” Bond guesses at the meaning of ‘PW’. “From 2008?”</p><p>R shakes her head. “Q certainly wasn’t around in 1912. I suspect he’s dropped the beginning ‘20’ off the year. If that’s the case, this would be for Christmas 2019, 12 April 2020, and —”</p><p>“Last Monday,” Bond finishes, seeing the pattern.</p><p>“So, why is Q using his opportunity to communicate with us to give us old passwords? Why not give us the current password?”</p><p>Bond considers that for a moment. “He’s not sure we have the computer,” Bond ventures, putting his hands in his pockets as he thinks it through. “He knows they haven’t tried to make him work on it, but he doesn’t know if it’s because they don’t have it, or they don’t trust him to not destroy it. And he’s hoping we’re monitoring this phone, but he’s not sure who else might be watching electronically.”</p><p>“Which is why he didn’t use a standard app. They must have him on a computer to hack something, and he hacked your carrier instead.”</p><p>“How <em>did</em> he do that?”</p><p>“Not important. He’s given us three. There must be a pattern we’re meant to pick up.”</p><p>They both study the passwords some more. “It starts with the date again, minus the year,” R offers. “Because the year doesn’t change often enough to be helpful.”</p><p>“This part might be coordinates,” Bond says, pointing at the string of numbers followed by N. “In Decimal Degrees, maybe, but without the decimal. He might still be spinning a globe for his password.”</p><p>“It can’t be random, though, or he wouldn’t expect us to find a pattern,” R says, opening a new window on the encrypted browser and typing in 18.471N, 77.919W. The query results are all about Montego Bay, Jamaica.</p><p>Where Bond spent last Christmas.</p><p>“What’s the next date?” he asks, pulling the Jamaica travel guide that he nabbed at Q’s flat from his pocket.</p><p>“Twelve April. Easter, I think.”</p><p>James was in the west part of the island for Easter. He flips through the pages and finds the entry for Priory, Jamaica. Sure enough, there are coordinates in decimal degrees under the name of the town, and in the margins, in Q’s tidy scrawl, the date 20-4-12.</p><p>“It’s me. I’m the finger on the globe.”</p><p>R whips her head around to stare at him. “Are you sure?”</p><p>Bond shrugs. “Last Monday I was in Matera, Italy. See if the coordinates match.”</p><p>She types in the latitude and longitude for the last password, and up comes a map of Italy.</p><p>“Let’s start with today and work backward,” she says excitedly, interrupting the program that’s trying to crack the password so she can manually try things. “What coordinates should we use? London’s a big place.”</p><p>“MI6,” Bond says simply.</p><p>And they’re in.</p><p>“Get M on the line,” she calls to the techs. “Tell him we’ve accessed the hard drive.”</p><p>“You understand what this means,” Bond says quietly as R starts looking through the main directory to see what Q’s been working on. What might have drawn their attention.</p><p>“What?” she asks absently as she reads.</p><p>“He’s been tracking me. The whole time. He never stopped using the Smartblood.”</p><p>She turns to stare at him again. “You’re not seriously upset that he would infringe on your privacy,” R asks incredulously.</p><p>“No… just look for it. Look for the program. I don’t know if ‘Smartblood’ was the official name or not, but you may as well start there.”</p><p>“You think he transferred it to his laptop?” she asks, searching through the directory. She finds the application and opens it.</p><p>“I would if I were him. He put a lot of effort into it. And though he always said I was the first subject, I bet I wasn’t. Q seems to me the type to test things on himself before subjecting others to his experimental tech.”</p><p>Sure enough, when the map comes up, there are two dots in Greater London. One at the MI6 labeled ‘JB’ and another a bit upriver labeled ‘𝞪’.  Assuming Q himself was the alpha test subject...</p><p>M and Eve enter the branch as R connects the laptop to the monitor bank at the front of the branch.</p><p>“Report!”</p><p>“We have him, sir,” she says, relief and joy clear on her face as she nods to the live map of London on the monitor. “We know where Q is.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Much thanks to anyawen for the beta help... I kept messing with it, so any mistakes are my own.  And thanks to everyone for reading and commenting!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
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</p><p> </p><p>As it turns out, <em>every </em>Double-Oh wants the mission. At least all the Double-Oh’s that are in London at the moment. Four are crowded into Q Branch practically arguing over who should have honors of rescuing Q, how many kidnappers there might be, which junior agents should be brought in… M and R are talking softly in the corner as Eve takes notes on the plan Bond and R have devised. Bond just watches the whole thing unfold. He’s no longer one of them — though he has a vested interest in the current mission — but he’s almost wistful with the sense of belonging he has just from being among them. Despite the fact that he only knows two of the Double-Ohs from before. Every agent is different, but they’re all the same. Brothers- and sisters-in-arms.</p><p>R’s shoulders tense as the bickering gets louder, until she finally erupts with “Shut it!.”</p><p>The room goes silent as she walks over to her station and brings up new imagery on the monitor, nodding to M that she’s ready.</p><p>M clears his throat. “Bond will take lead on Q’s rescue—”</p><p>The clamor is instant. “But he’s not even an agent, why should he—”</p><p>“Because I said so,” M says loudly, with a glare that seems to dare them all to interrupt him again. “I have my reasons.”</p><p>The room stays quiet, though several glares are turned on Bond. M nods at R.</p><p>“Q is being kept on the south end of the warehouse, from what we can tell,” she says in a softer but just as authoritative voice. “There’s a lorry entrance here,” she points. “It’s probably locked, but there are windows on the second floor that appear to be cracked. So that’s your entry. Do it quietly.”</p><p>“Can you still make that climb?” Nomi asks Bond. It’s an honest question, not one of the teasing ‘old man’ jokes she’d made when they first met.</p><p>He takes a beat too long to answer, “Probably,” and Nomi turns back to M with a raised eyebrow.</p><p>“007 will accompany Bond,” he says without missing a beat. “The rest of you will approach from the north. 004 has point. When Bond and 007 indicate they are in and have located Q, 004 will lead a <em>less subtle</em> assault.”</p><p>“We’re the distraction?” 004 asks.</p><p>“You will engage them,” M explains. “You will capture as many as you can for questioning, but you will not let <em>any</em> escape.” The agents grin and look at each other, understanding the level of violence that was just authorized. “And yes, you will draw their attention away from the back of the building. The timing will be critical. If you go too early, they may realize what’s happening and double back to guard Q. We don’t know what condition he’s in. You need to give Bond and 007 the time they need to get him out safely.” He looks sideways at Bond while still directing his comments to the others. “If you find Dr. Swann, take her alive.”</p><p>Bond does his best not to react… only nod at M in understanding. Bond has <em>many</em> feelings now about Dr. Madeleine Swann, and all of them indicate he should stay well clear. There are others at -6 who can question her, and others who could capture her without a burning desire to pay her back for her betrayal and showing him to be a fool. Bond requested being lead on Q’s rescue for a reason: to help undo the damage he may have inadvertently caused in a <em>positive</em> way.</p><p>He glances at folder still held protectively on his lap, the beginnings of Q’s passwords scrawled in the corner, and realizes that even if he didn’t feel partially responsible — even if Madeleine weren’t involved in any way and he’d just gotten a call out of the blue from M saying that Q was missing — he’d want to be part of the team that finds him. That he’d want to be there for <em>Q</em>. And perhaps that says something he’s been denying for a very long time. Something at once scarier and more thrilling than riding off into the sunset with a pretty girl.</p><p>“You leave in fifteen minutes,” M concludes.</p><p>They’re dismissed, and James follows the others down to the locker rooms after detouring to feed the redacted-but-still-oh-so-revealing file into the shredder. It’s an odd feeling, dressing in tactical gear and readying for a proper mission. He’s stayed fit, but it’s civilian-fit, not agent-fit. And Nomi’s teasing about his bad knee isn’t as far off base as he wishes it were.</p><p>He meets Nomi in the garage where a junior agent is waiting with a car and their kits. They put their earpieces in and check their guns as agent... McKinley was it? starts driving across town as the sky darkens.</p><p>“007?” he hears through the comm.</p><p>“Yes?” both he and Nomi answer at once.</p><p>Bond can almost hear R’s eye roll. Nomi just shakes her head and offers Bond an exasperated look. “I’ve coordinated with MI5 and the local police,” comes R’s voice in his ear. “A perimeter is being set up quietly about two blocks from the warehouse, in case any rats slip through the trap. They won’t interfere with the mission, but MI5 is on standby if they’re needed. The team led by 004 is heading into position just outside the perimeter where they’ll await your signal. You have a number of tranquilizers in your kits. Just slap one of the discs onto an adversary’s skin and they’ll be pricked and dosed automatically. Application at the neck should take them out in seconds; hands might take longer, and through clothing is hit or miss. We want as many alive as possible for questioning. You each have your preferred weapon with a silencer and multiple rounds of ammunition. There’s a medevac on standby should you need it. Any questions?”</p><p>“What do we know about security?” Bond asks.</p><p>“Two guards run a circuit around the building periodically… we haven’t been watching long enough yet to be sure of the pattern, but we can help you time your approach. There’s been no activity in or out of the building since we’ve started monitoring it. Charles has gone back through what camera footage we could find over the last few hours and says a car entered the warehouse shortly after we noticed Q was missing and again a little over an hour ago. We’re assuming that the second one is Dr. Swann, but we don’t have confirmation. Both times the door opened either automatically or from the inside, but I don’t have any idea how many people are in there. I’m afraid I’m sending you in rather blind.”</p><p>“That just makes it fun,” Nomi responds, and Bond is impressed that he isn’t getting more feedback from the comms considering they’re sharing a car and he can hear her both through the comms and through his other ear. The tech has improved a bit since he left.</p><p>“We’ve just passed through the perimeter,” Nomi informs R. “Warehouse is in view.”</p><p>They get dropped off and make their approach, sticking to the shadows and moving among cargo containers as R feeds them information on the movements of the guards and the other team getting into position for deployment. The window is higher than it looked in the photos, but it <em>is</em> open. Bond gives Nomi a boost to the first handhold and watches as she climbs up and through without so much as a grunt. He hears a muffled cry of surprise and a thud before the door is opened.</p><p>“One hostile eliminated,” she reports to R. “No alarms triggered.”</p><p>“Good. Q’s tracker appears to be 500 meters ahead of you. I can’t tell if there are multiple floors.”</p><p>There are, but only of the far side. This part of the floor contains lorries and more cargo containers. Bond wonders for a moment if it’s a smuggling operation. Bond and Nomi have a silent conversation of hand signals, divvying up the routes through the obstacles to the series of doors at the far side along the walls. There’s just enough ambient light coming from an open door in the loft to allow him to pick his way across the warehouse. The first door he gets appears to be a server array. The next room contains a table with a workstation that has clearly seen better days and a chair with restraints. The level of destruction in the room confirms that the last user wasn’t there by choice. Bond doesn’t take the time to investigate what looks like blood on the table, moving on with more urgency.</p><p>He hears a quiet thud off to his right and hopes that it’s Nomi disposing of another hostile rather than being taken out herself.</p><p>Footsteps echo quietly through the warehouse, and Bond hides with one of the tranquilizers in his hand until the guard walks by. Bond dispatches him quietly and hides the unconscious man behind a container. “One guard removed from action,” he whispers into his comm.</p><p>“I’ve removed another two,” Nomi adds quietly. “No sign of Q yet.”</p><p>“I’m moving to the doors on the far wall,” Bond whispers.</p><p>The first is locked, but he hears moaning behind it that sounds disturbingly familiar. The door gives way with a silenced shot into the lock and opens to expose Q slumped in a chair, blood oozing from his brow and hands secured to the chair back.</p><p>“Got him,” Bond whispers.</p><p>“On my way,” Nomi says as R adds, “Sending in 004.”</p><p>“Q,” Bond says, holstering the gun and brandishing a knife to cut the zip ties fastening Q’s wrists and ankles to the chair. “Wake up, Q! We need to go.”</p><p>Q groans and lolls his head toward Bond, blinking several times. “Bond? Are you here, or am I hallucinating again?” he slurs as he focuses on James’ face.</p><p>“I’m here. I’m getting you out.”</p><p>Q offers a pleased smile for a moment and then furrows his brow. “That’s exactly what a hallucination would say.”</p><p>Bond shakes his head with a smirk, wondering whether the boffin hallucinates him often... And whether such visions would be classified as dreams or nightmares. But he resists teasing, considering the poor man has been drugged and they have an audience in the comms. “Do you know what they gave you?”</p><p>“Ow! Yes. Scopolamine, I think they said.”</p><p>“They gave you truth serum?” Bond confirms, noting how uncoordinated Q is behaving.</p><p>Q stumbles into Bond, face momentarily pressed into Bond’s neck, then overcompensates as he pulls away, nearly toppling backward as Bond’s arm tightens around his waist. “They didn’t like my stunt,” he continues. “They want me more co- co...operatvie.” His words are slurring more.</p><p>“Your stunt of hacking my phone to give us a way to find you rather than hacking… whatever they wanted hacked?” Bond asks as he pulls Q toward the door, drawing his gun again.</p><p>“Yes. They hit me,” he remembers, raising fingers to the blood on his brow. A loud noise emanates from the north end of the building.</p><p>Q turns toward it. “Explosion?”</p><p>“Just a small one. I’m not the only one here to get you out,” Bond answers, leading Q into the warehouse, where the distant sounds of gunfire and violence are clearer. “Do you know what they were after?”</p><p>“Yes,” Q answers, stumbling. “But it’s not on the servers anymore… I shouldn’t say that here.” He gives Bond a strange look, as if he’s still not sure he believes Bond isn’t part of some trick to make him talk. “SPECTRE 2.0 has a bit of a power struggle going on. This lot wants to kill Blofeld.”</p><p>“That’s relatable,” Bond quips, practically dragging Q along with him now. The boffin really is heavier than he appears. “And they think you can help with that?”</p><p>“Hmmm. Tracker. My little trackers,” Q mumbles, stumbling over his feet.</p><p>Bond is processing what that might mean when the sounds of a struggle much closer to them make him turn and raise his gun, shoving Q behind him.</p><p>“James!” Madeleine cries. She’s being held at gunpoint by a man with a scarred face. “Please James,” she pleads. “Don’t let him take me.”</p><p>Bond spies Nomi in the shadows behind them, gun also drawn and trained on the man… but the shot’s not clear.</p><p>“Hello, Maddie,” James says quietly.</p><p>“Bond,” Q whispers loudly. “She’s not… I’m sorry but she’s not—”</p><p>“I’ll trade you,” interrupts the man with the scars. “You can walk out of here with your lover, but <em>he</em> stays with me.”</p><p>“James,” Madeleine pleads again, looking for all the world like a damsel in distress. An innocent caught up in the crossfire of things she doesn’t want to be involved with.</p><p>What horseshit.</p><p>He shoots her in the shoulder, and the bullet hits her captor as it exits, causing him to stumble backward several steps as Madeleine crumbles to the floor. Nomi swoops in as he stumbles trying to press one of the tranquilizer buttons onto his neck, but the man is fast, spinning and knocking her arm aside so the button lands on the fabric of his collar. He knocks her across the temple with his gun, sending her sprawling to the ground. He reaches up to his collar and picks off the button, tossing it away and then rubbing his neck.</p><p>Bond can’t tell how much of the drug may have gotten into Scarface’s system. Perhaps a bit, but Bond knows better than to count on it.</p><p>Scarface rights himself and trains his UZI on Bond. “I’ll take him back now. I’ll take them both actually,” he says, nodding to Q and Madeleine.</p><p>Bond smiles cruelly. “You can have her,” he says, pushing Q further behind him and feeling the boffin stumble and cling to his shoulder.</p><p>“You shot me!” Madeleine cries as she braces herself into a sitting position.</p><p>“Only a little,” Bond replies, wishing he’d shot her somewhere more painful. Abdomen, maybe. Or knee.</p><p>Scarface swings his gun to target Nomi, who’s back on her feet and trying to get behind him.</p><p>“Oh no… over here with your friend,” he says, motioning with the gun to force her to move toward Bond. “I want you both where I can see you.”</p><p>“Where’s the fun in that?” Nomi asks, tilting her head at Bond so he shifts to the left as she does, keeping their distance from each other as they rotate around Scarface. “We could dance if you like,” she adds. “But there are two of us, and even if you take one of us out, the other would get you. So why don’t you be a nice little psychopath and come along quietly.”</p><p>The look on his face would curdle milk.</p><p>“Or would you rather tell us your big important plans and how we’re not smart enough to stop you?” she goads.</p><p>Bond decides right then, he likes this new 007. If she can still taunt her mark while she’s bleeding from the head... she’s a credit to the number.</p><p>“James,” Madeleine tries to plead again.</p><p>“Shut it, princess,” Nomi cuts in. “And don’t move unless you want one of my bullets, too. Somewhere actually painful.”</p><p>Bond <em>really</em> likes her.</p><p>Scarface shakes his head as if to clear it.</p><p>“Or are you starting to feel a bit dizzy?” Nomi taunts him again.</p><p>“Oooh. The tranqbutton prototypes,” Q slurs from behind Bond. “I’ve been wanting to field test those.”</p><p>“Backup approaching,” R says quietly over the comms. Bond had almost forgotten she was listening.</p><p>“I think we’ll be on our way,” James says, backing up with Q pushed behind him, nodding to Nomi. “I have my target, and as for her,” he nods at Madeleine, “I’m not feeling particularly motivated to stop you... though others might be.”</p><p>The sound of approaching footsteps alert Scarface to the fact that he’s being outflanked. The look he gives Nomi is murderous.</p><p>He reaches into his pocket and retrieves a remote. “You underestimate me at your peril.”</p><p>“Stop him!” Bond shouts, and Nomi lunges but it’s too late. An explosion rocks the warehouse — much larger than the one MI6 initiated, and much closer — and Bond throws Q to the ground beside a metal cargo container and covers the boffin with his body. Plaster and rubble rain down on them, and Bond can make out a few cries he recognizes and many more that he doesn’t. He looks up as the dust clears to see Madeleine struggling to her feet.</p><p>Scarface is gone.</p><p>Bond turns his gun onto Madeleine, still protecting Q from bits of falling debris.</p><p>“Not so fast, princess,” Nomi says, coming into view and pressing her gun into the back of Madeleine’s head.</p><p>Maddie hates guns...or so she always said. He almost feels bad for her. But then Q groans, and Bond is busy getting to his feet and pulling Q to his. The boffin is unstable, struggling for balance, so James wraps an arm around his waist and pulls Q’s arms over his shoulder</p><p>“They’ll want her for questioning,” Bond says to Nomi. “I can manage the Quartermaster if you can bring her in. R, Scarfa— Q’s captor has disa—”</p><p>“Safin,” Q interrupts in a slurred voice. “That’s his name.”</p><p>Bond looks to Madeleine, and judging from her expression, Q has it right. “R, <em>Safin</em> set off an explosion to cover his escape, but he couldn’t have gone far. 007 has Dr. Swann and I’ve secured the Quartermaster.”</p><p>“I’ll coordinate a search as we gather up the rest,” R says. “What’s the status of the Quartermaster?”</p><p>Bond looks down at Q’s lolling head. “Hold on Q,” Bond says quietly as Q sways on his feet. “He’s been drugged, and appears to be losing consciousness,” Bond tells R. “We could use that medevac. He’s not badly injured, from what I can tell, but the Scopolamine or whatever they gave him is really hitting him hard now. I’ll take him out the door we came in.”</p><p>“I’ll have the ambulance waiting,” R confirms. “Sending in a team to mop up and start the search.”</p><p>“Safin may have gotten some of the tranquilizer,” Nomi reports. “It hit his collar and he removed it quickly, but that might have slowed him down.”</p><p>“Good work, 007,” comes M’s voice. And you too, Bond. Imagine, a mission in which there were two explosions, and neither was caused by you.”</p><p>“Wonders never cease,” Bond quips.</p><p>“Glad to have you back,” M says.</p><p>“The pleasure’s all mine, M,” Bond responds. And it’s true: he’s happy to be back in the action again. But that’s not nearly as satisfying as sweeping the Quartermaster up in his arms and carrying him to the back of the warehouse and into the safety of the cool London air.</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is the final chapter of this little prize.  Thanks so much for reading and commenting, and much tanks to anyawen for helping me with this fic.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
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</p><p> </p><p>The soft monotonous beeping of the machines is soothing, Bond finds, when he’s not the one hooked up to them. They let him know without watching that Q is still breathing. His heart is still beating. A quick glance and the monitors show him that Q’s brain activity has changed from the fevered nightmare of the drug to something much closer to normal sleep.</p><p>He’ll be coming out of it soon.</p><p>And yet, there’s so much the monitors <em>don’t </em>tell. How very pale Q can get. How small he looks in the hospital bed. It makes Bond realize that Q’s presence normally seems larger than his actual physical form. He exudes a quiet power that’s easy to miss, but which holds his teams together in ways that Bond had never really noticed in his other quartermasters. He inspires a loyalty that Bond hasn’t seen since they lost M-the-former — though Bond is also impressed that M-the-current is as well-liked within the department as he’s become. It’s a testament to his ability to lead. Q has inspired the relentless activity of all the agents on his behalf, but M and R have kept it focused and organized.</p><p>He leans back in the decidedly uncomfortable chair, no doubt designed to keep visiting hours down to actual... hours. Good thing he’s stubborn.</p><p>The rest of MI6 is busy with their captives. Some are being questioned, some are being guarded, and a few are being given medical attention. Madeleine is being held two floors down...</p><p>Bond can’t be arsed about any of it.</p><p>He’s spent the last several hours watching over Q and reading the files R had pulled off Q’s machine. Files that not only show that Q was keeping tabs on him, but that he was digging into Madeleine’s background. He hadn’t actually bugged her communications, but he’d caught her communicating with people he <em>was</em> tracking. Bad people. Enemies of the state.</p><p>It isn’t clear whether Q had been planning to warn Bond. The evidence is relatively sparse until a few weeks ago, and it’s possible Q just hadn’t had the chance. It looks like he was getting his ducks in a row...</p><p>It makes Bond feel rather foolish to have been deceived by a woman <em>again</em>. But he hadn’t been… not <em>really</em>. He’s had his own suspicions about Madeleine for months and just ignored them, not wanting to admit that the peaceful life he’d envisioned for himself was a bit of a boring farce.</p><p>After sitting on innumerable beaches watching the calm, shimmering sea, Bond had found that he didn’t actually <em>like</em> being so far out of the game. And he didn’t trust Madeleine. She knew, and it frustrated her, but apparently not for the reasons he expected. She wasn’t disappointed that he wasn’t settling into their life and committing to her. She was scared. His lack of trust meant she was failing at her job. Because if Bond is convinced of one thing after reading through Q’s collection of evidence, it’s that Madeleine <em>never</em> left the game. She’s just been playing for a different team. Not her father’s. Not Blofeld’s. Certainly not James’.</p><p>And James definitely has a team. And a “pathetic love of country,” as he once told Silva. And he left it. Left <em>them</em>. His people — Q, Eve… yes, even this new M. And for what exactly? His well-deserved retirement? The promise of a quiet, peaceful life?</p><p>James doesn’t like “peace”. It’s disquieting. <em>Q </em>looks peaceful at the moment and James positively hates seeing him so still.</p><p>This is what came of his little adventure in normalcy. Q subjected to drugs that will punch holes in his brilliant mind — temporarily, but still. And it could have been so much worse. He could have been killed. Or forced to do things that would have made him hate himself or Bond. Because once Safin read the psych file Madeleine stole for him and <em>really</em> understood it, he would know just where to apply pressure to manipulate Q.</p><p>And no one is more surprised by that answer than Bond.</p><p>Q stirs, blinking his eyes open at the ceiling and then jolting awake, pulling against his IV.</p><p>“Easy, Q. You’re safe.”</p><p>The boffin freezes and blinks again, turning toward James.</p><p>“Bond?” comes the hoarse question.</p><p>“Yes,” he responds, standing so Q can find him more easily.</p><p>Q furrows his brow.</p><p>“You’re in Medical. You’re a bit concussed and still clearing the drugs they gave you, but otherwise fine.”</p><p>“Drugs? What drugs? Who gave me drugs?”</p><p>“The people who kidnapped you.” Q’s eyes widen. “They gave you Scopolamine,” Bond clarifies. “It tends to cause some memory issues, which could explain any confusion you might be experiencing.”</p><p>“I see,” Q says, though his tone indicates that he doesn’t, actually. He sighs. “I was… kidnapped.”</p><p>It sounds like a question, so Bond nods as Q squints at him.</p><p>“I’m sorry, Q. Maybe these will help… clarify the room, if nothing else,” Bond says, taking Q’s specs from the side table and helping to position them on Q’s face.</p><p>Q’s breath hitches as Bond pulls away again. He blinks a few times. “Thank you. That is better. Could you… raise the bed to sitting, please?” He leans back against the pillow as James adjusts the hospital bed. He looks more like <em>Q</em> already. No longer pale and listless. James can almost see the cogs of his mind working to remember.</p><p>“You and Eve dropped by,” he recalls. “You’d been attacked in... Italy?” Bond nods. “And came for help. And then… there was a man in a mask.”</p><p>“Safin,” Bond confirms. “You said he wanted to kill Franz… Blofeld… whatever he’s going by these days.”</p><p>“When did I say that?”</p><p>“When I rescued you. Well, half of MI6 and I. You’re very popular.”</p><p>“Huh.” Q looks at his hands, thinking… trying to remember. “That seems vaguely familiar. Was it a warehouse?” Bond nods. “How did you know where to find me?”</p><p>“It’s a shame you don't remember that. You were quite clever.”</p><p>Bond quietly recounts the mission from the time they searched Q’s flat, to the passwords, Madeleine’s disappearance with Q’s psych reports, and the rescue. Q furrows his brow a few times, nodding when something seems familiar. He grows increasingly flushed as Bond explains, looking down at his hands again as if he’s ashamed. Finally, he says, “So you know, then.”</p><p>“That you were tracking me during my retirement and digging into Dr. Swann’s background? Yes, I’m aware.”</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Q starts, but Bond holds up a hand to cut him off.</p><p>“I’m not,” he says gently. “It shows a certain amount of good judgment.” He sighs. “I suspected something was wrong for a while, but it seemed more… polite, I suppose… to leave the pain of the past behind us. I bought her damsel-in-distress routine. It was a rookie mistake — one I’ve made before, as you’re no doubt aware. And I’m sorry. I fear I’m the one who brought this down on your head, Q. I often bragged about you. Your cleverness, your ingenuity… your wit. If Madeleine was passing information on to Safin, all of that made you a target.”</p><p>“I was a target anyway,” Q says, shrugging but giving Bond a look he can’t quite interpret. “And I drew their attention poking around on their computers last month. I was trying to get absolute proof. I should have contacted you as soon as I suspected something, but I didn’t want to disturb your retirement if I was wrong. And I…” he looks down at his hands for a moment. “I didn’t trust my motivations,” he sighs, looking back up at Bond and bracing himself.</p><p>Though Bond can’t be sure <em>for what</em>. He’s already made it clear that he doesn’t mind that Q was watching over him. Does he think that Bond would find Q’s... interest or connection or whatever was implied by the psych reports and the fact Q was using him as a finger on the globe somehow distasteful or embarrassing?</p><p>“Well, I can’t speak for your motivations, but your instincts were spot on. She gave herself away when she stole your psych file to give them leverage. We can only hope Safin didn’t get a chance to read it.”</p><p>“But you read it?” Q asks quietly. And perhaps it’s just refreshing in the aftermath of Madeleine’s secrecy, but Bond finds it a relief that Q doesn’t want to avoid the subject. Despite his obvious discomfort with the idea.</p><p>“A redacted version,” Bond admits, placing his hands in his pockets. “But it was enough to allow me to... understand some things that I’d perhaps been rather... willfully ignorant of in the past.” He’s had a chance to think about <em>this</em> over the last several hours as well. The little looks Q had given him back before he left. The banter over the comms. The hope in his face when Bond had come for the car. He’d not allowed himself to examine it before, but now… well.</p><p>“Well, that’s mortifying,” Q announces, sighing and seeming to grow smaller as he sinks back into the pillows.</p><p>“I’m the spy who didn’t read the signs well enough to notice,” Bond counters. “If anyone should be feeling mortified, it’s me.”</p><p>“I always tried to be very careful around you. We had to work together… until we didn’t.” Q looks down again. “And then I kicked myself for not saying anything. Imagining what might have been different — which is no doubt <em>utter </em>nonsense — if I’d taken any sort of risk.” He fidgets with his hands. “You risk everything all the time. You’re so brave.”</p><p>“Foolish, some might say,” Bond counters. “Reckless. I think you’ve even called me reckless.”</p><p>“I’m not talking about your penchant for explosions,” Q spats emphatically. “I’m talking about—”</p><p>“I know,” Bond assures him quietly. He waits for Q to look up again. “But I think the characterization still stands. I’m a terrible judge of women.”</p><p>Q seems surprised by the admission. “I was worried about you,” Q admits. “At first my monitoring… it was just… inertia. I’d have had to actively remove you from the program, and it was easier to just… not. And then you were moving around so much it was sort of entertaining. A distant sort of voyeurism. Especially since I didn’t have to be upset that you weren’t where I’d told you to be, because I wasn’t in charge of you anymore.”</p><p>There’s something almost pained in Q’s tone, but Bond doesn’t draw attention to it.</p><p>“And we were so busy.” Q runs his fingers through his hair, tugging at it. “God, you left a fucking mess, and I don’t just mean me.” Q gives him a rueful smile. He seems more himself now that the admissions are out of the way. “And I was supposed to decommission the whole Smartblood program. But, well, Blofeld’s been so slippery…”</p><p>Bond freezes, mind racing to put together several things that have been niggling at his mind. “You injected him?”</p><p>“No one knows,” Q insists. “But, well perhaps that’s not true.” He furrows his brow. “I can remember some things, but it’s all disjointed. Like a fever dream you forget as soon as you wake up, but then get flashes of later on.” He shakes his head slightly. “They thought I knew where he was. Or could find out. He still has people loyal to him. He’s apparently still trying to run the organization from his prison cell. But others want the role. Safin is just the strongest of them, I think. But until Blofeld is actually <em>eliminated</em>, no one else will be able to take over.”</p><p>“And that’s why they wanted you? To track Blofeld? I considered that they wanted the Smartblood program, but it didn’t make sense. They already knew where we both were, and we were the only two to show up on the map.”</p><p>Q shakes his head. “You must have been zoomed in on London. The whereabouts of Blofeld’s secret high-security detention is… well… <em>secret</em>. Most of MI6 doesn’t know where it is. Very few of us have access to the reports, and only M and I get the feeds. But if you’d been zoomed out to the whole UK, you’d have seen him.”</p><p>“But, it’s possible they don’t know about the Smartblood program. That they just thought your security clearance would mean you’d have the information.”</p><p>“I suppose that’s true,” Q says, though he sounds unconvinced. Unspoken is the fear that they might have a mole in the building… that Safin wasn’t aware of Q merely because of information from Madeleine, but was also getting intelligence directly from MI6. If Bond wasn’t sure that M was launching a full investigation, he’d be more concerned for Q’s safety… “I’m sorry about Dr. Swann,” Q offers, as if following Bond’s train of thought.</p><p>Bond looks away. “I’ve suspected something was off for a while. But I didn’t trust my motivations either… I felt antsy. It would seem I’m not cut out for retirement.”</p><p>“Oh? Are you back then?” Q sounds like he’s working at not being hopeful. It warms something in Bond’s chest.</p><p>“Well, you already have a perfectly adequate 007, so <em>back</em> might not be the right word. But considering that Madeleine was recaptured and is in custody and being questioned, and Safin is in the wind, I might stick to London for a bit, in case I can be useful in some way.”</p><p>Q ponders that. “Do we know how Safin escaped? I thought you said we had the warehouse surrounded with an MI5 perimeter.”</p><p>Bond nods. “He had a plan. Several containers in the yard and warehouse were hiding trap door entrances into a tunnel that he’d dug the three blocks out to the Thames, where it appears he had a small boat waiting. He must have already been at the water’s edge when we started to search for him within the warehouse. It took a half an hour to notice the tunnel; once the cargo containers themselves were searched one of the trap doors was discovered. 004 followed it out to a locked, ancient-looking wooden door, and when he shot it open, he was on a dock at the river, well below street level and outside the view of any CCTV. R got someone looking over the bridge cameras, and they found his boat entering the river traffic… a lone man in a hoodie. He went under the Wandsworth Bridge and never came out the other side. That’s where they found the skiff.”</p><p>“So he went on foot from there?”</p><p>“Or was picked up in another boat,” Bond offers. “There was a fair amount of traffic, and the CCTV coverage isn’t good. The trail’s probably gone cold. Fortunately, we brought in several of his people. As well as Madeleine.”</p><p>Q closes his eyes for a moment. He’s tired, clearly, but still thinking. He snorts softly. “You know, I almost hope Safin <em>does</em> read my psych reports and realizes that he had his best shot of leverage over me in his grasp and lost it. I would love to be a fly on the wall for that temper tantrum.”</p><p>Bond huffs a laugh. “I’d just as soon that we keep that to ourselves. I suspect that Madeleine thought I was there to save her, not realizing that my allegiance had already shifted back to where it belongs.”</p><p>“With MI6?”</p><p>Bond shrugs. This feels more personal than just his allegiance to MI6 and his pathetic love of country, but too much has changed too quickly for him to feel sure of anything. All he knows is that he wants to help. Wants to keep an eye on Q and keep him safe. He wants to help put together what they know about Safin and Blofeld and keep England safe.</p><p>He wants to get off the bloody sidelines.</p><p>And he wants to reward the loyalty and concern Q has offered him in kind. As for whatever else might happen... Well, having Q in his ear again seems like a welcome development.</p><p>“Bond? Why is it you’re the one here waiting for me to awaken?” Q asks. Because he’s clever and always did see through Bond’s shite.</p><p>Bond just offers him a little smirk, which, after a moment, Q returns.</p><p>“I’ll just go get your nurse, shall I? And then we can see about getting back to work. Together.”</p><p>Q watches him for a moment, and tilts his head, seeing everything Bond isn’t saying. Bond feels abruptly nervous, perhaps for the first time in two years.</p><p>“Together,” Q agrees.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks so much for reading!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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